Through Thorin's Eyes
by Meg Hunter
Summary: This is the story of the retelling of the movie's portrayal of The Hobbit entirely through Thorin's eyes.
1. More of a Grocer than a Burglar

Hello Everyone,

So I am hopelessly in love with the movie's portrayal of one of my all time favorite books. As I watched the film for the 6th time I really began wondering what was going through Thorin's mind. He is always so quiet and pensive. So, I have decided to tell the story through the POV of Thorin. All I can say is that there will be nothing (or very little) in here that isn't in Peter Jackson's movie (heaven help me if he releases an extended edition… I may have to add more chapters!). I'm using the movie as a creative challenge to see how well I can stay in character with the very sexy Thorin that Richard Armitage has created. I hope that you enjoy!

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_Curse that wizard and his blasted directions_, Thorin thought to himself as he retraced his steps for a second time. He cast a long look over the vast, hilly, plain before him. He had walked its perimeter – using the forest for cover – once already and had spent the past half-hour navigating the winding walkways. The simple walkways – which were really more like packed dirt that had been trod on by so many feet that the grass was unable to ever grow there than actual planned and constructed paths – told him much about the values of the people who lived here… they certainly did not lay in the building of an effective fortress. Thorin was unfamiliar with these rustic lands and had no idea of the dangers that may lurk in their shadows, but was quite surprised by the evident lack of concern for safety this _Shire_ demonstrated. Though his instincts told him that it must be a peaceful place, he was ever watchful and vigilant. He imagined that a very poor, unwanted and unskilled people must live here if they were forced to dig their homes into the sandy dirt of the hills rather than carve them out of stone – like the proud homes of the dwarfs – or build them from wood and above ground – like the homes of men. He was on his second turn of the area and getting increasingly frustrated. Why hadn't Gandalf just given him a map like any other normal being would have done?

He was about to curse the wizard aloud and return the way he had just come, when he saw a glinting light. He waited, scanning the horizon. The tops of the hills were barely discernible from each other – the quickly fading light of evening having long been extinguished, the light of the pale moon and stars were his only aids. Then, it glinted again. He saw it clearly this time, a silvery-blue light, not far from where he was now. He approached with caution until he was close enough to see that the light was a dwarvish rune that had been scratched on the large, round, wooden door in Gandalf's unmistakeable hand. Thorin heard the sound of deep and joyful voices raised in song along with a lot of the crashing and clattering and the music of whatever accompanying instruments they had managed to find. He hesitated on the doorstep, enjoying the happy sound of his countrymen who had managed, for a short time, to forget their troubles. He supressed a smile when he heard their clamorous laughter at the song's end and wondered what in Middle Earth the others had managed to get into in his absence. He knocked twice, firmly on the door.

"Gandalf," he was relieved and extremely pleased to see the great wizard standing – rather _stooping,_ as was the case, because of the low doorway – before him, "I thought you said this place would be easy to find," he said with a hint of reproach as he moved past the wizard and into the brightly-lit hall. "I lost my way… twice," he openly admitted in hope that the wizards would feel some remorse for his negligence, and also as a partial excuse for his tardiness, "I wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door." He added as he unclipped the fastening of his cape. He glanced around the hall swiftly and was pleasantly surprised by his surroundings which he had honestly not expected to be much better than a troll cave.

He vaguely heard a small, alarmed, voice exclaim in opposition to his comment about the door and Gandalf give some kind of reply, but paid it little attention as he folded his cape and cast welcoming glances over his fellow countrymen. It was good to see them all here… it had been a long time. He turned in time to see the dark curly locks of back of a stranger's head: a small man was standing between himself and Gandalf who was making their introduction, "Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company… Thorin Oakenshield."

The stranger turned at Gandalf's sweeping motion and Thorin looked into the large, dark, eyes of a very timid-looking creature with fine, handsome, features. Thorin approached and crossed his arms over his chest as he examined him, supressing a smile at the little creature's awed reaction and strange appearance… "So, this is the hobbit," he said quietly, more to himself than to anyone else. He had wondered what such a creature would look like and was quite surprised to find that a hobbit was simply a smaller, frailer version of a dwarf… and was, oddly, completely beardless. He looked more like a young human child really… hardly old enough to learn to ride never-mind fight. "Tell me Mr. Baggins," he began as he walked around the hobbit who shifted uncomfortably, "Have you done much fighting? Axe or Sword? What is your weapon of choice?" he asked the questions in quick succession, not really expecting much of a reply.

"Well I do have some skill at conkers, if you must know," Mr. Baggins said, puffing out his chest and looking quite proud of himself, "but I fail to see why that's relevant," he added – looking more than a little deflated at Thorin's lack of reaction. He was certainly out of his league if he believed a small children's game of conkers counted as practise with a weapon. The little Halfling hesitantly met Thorin's eye. Thorin glanced at his comrades, thoroughly amused by this being whose face hid nothing of his thoughts from those around him.

"Thought as much," he responded. Then, to his comrades, he added, "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar." His comment gained a chuckle from the entire company, except of course, from the butt of the joke – the hobbit himself – who looked both irritated and a little crestfallen.

Thorin turned into the next room where he was led to a comfortable place to sit and eat. Though he'd maintained his composure, he was grateful for the already prepared meal… he was starving, and a hungry dwarf is a force to be reckoned with. The others joined him around the table, and glanced at him with eager eyes, but he was in no hurry to share the disheartening news he carried with him just yet.

As he gratefully partook of his soup, he cast not a second thought upon the hobbit whose home now sheltered him and his men. He knew from first glance that the weak, timid, little creature would not accompany them in their task. It was the first time in a long time that the instincts of the great dwarf lord would betray him… that a first impression, unbeknownst to him at this time, would turn out to be wholly wrong.


	2. The Fourteenth Member

Hello Everyone, I am sorry in advance if the beginning of this chapter feels a bit slow. I'm hoping that this will get better as I go along. I found the ending quite amusing and I hope you all do as well. Just FYI, unless the other members say something that I feel directly impacts Thorin's thoughts, I do not quote them. Also, I will be cutting a lot of information out because it is not directly related to Thorin or I did not feel it was significant enough to occupy the Dwarf Lord's mind. I'm really looking forward to writing the Rivendale parts of the movie! I imagine that Thorin thought a whole lot that he didn't say during those scenes! Enjoy!

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After a little chatter and jest Balin asked Thorin about the meeting from which he had just returned. The old dwarf wasted little time in bringing up the one piece of information that all of them wanted to know, and which Thorin had wanted to avoid talking about. He responded lightly that there were members of all the dwarven kingdoms present.

"What do the Dwarves of the Iron Hills say?" Dwalin asked. Thorin wished he had not, he had wanted to keep the disappointing news from this countrymen a little longer. But, since it was asked, he thought perhaps it was better to simply get the bad news out of the way to make way for more important talk. For Thorin would continue this quest, with or without followers from the Iron Hills or elsewhere.

"They will not come," Thorin replied after taking a deep breath in preparation for his comrades' reactions. The angry and disappointed groans echoed to him from around the table, "They say this quest is ours, and ours alone."

"Y-you're going on a quest?" a timid, inquisitive voice asked from somewhere behind Gandalf. Thorin did not so much as glance in the halfling's direction, but rather focused on Gandalf's actions.

He was surprised to see the old wizard pull an ancient map from his cloak and lay it out on the table.

"The Lonely Mountain," Mr. Baggins read slowly over Thorin's shoulder. He was holding the candle a little too close for Thorin's liking, but Thorin did his best to ignore the useless creature's presence while examining the ancient parchment before him. The hobbit was like an annoying, and overly curious, child who wanted to hear a good bedtime story. This was not the time or place. There were serious matters to be discussed.

The dwarves began speaking of the prophecies and the return to the mountain.

Thorin's thoughts lay elsewhere and he only half-listened to the information they had all heard repeated so many times before, until Mr. Baggins asked innocently, "What beast?"

Bofur began a detailed description of the vile worm known to most as "Smaug," and Thorin fought the urge to watch the reaction Bofur's words were producing. From the look on Bofur's face, the little hobbit's reactions were quite amusing indeed.

"Yes I know what a dragon is," the hobbit spat impatiently – effectively cutting off any further unpleasant description.

Thorin again ignored the hovering presence of the halfling while he listened to his men alternately despair and attempt to give hope to each other. Youthful Kili burst out with his claim that Gandalf would most surely have killed hundreds of dragons in his time, and Thorin turned in amusement to watch his great friend struggle to answer such an absurd claim. All of the dwarves were curious to know how many dragons Gandalf had actually killed and whether their quest was not so hopeless after all. Then, before he knew what had happened, the dwarves were all standing and shouting at (or over) each other. He needed to stop this before it all got out of hand and their small company fell apart.

He stood with a frustrated roar, effectively silencing the company, "If we have read these signs do you not think that others will have read them too?" he asked, looking into the eyes of each and every dwarf. He shared his fears and warned them that if they did not cease this chance, others would soon beat them to it. Afterall, the dragon had not been seen in over sixty years. It was time.

The dwarves cried out enthusiastically at his speech, but the ever-practical Balin was quick to point out that the front gate was sealed, "There is no way into the mountain."

"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true," Gandalf replied producing a large key.

Thorin stared at the relic in awe. "How came you by this?" he demanded. For he had seen this trinket before…

"It was given to me by your father, by Thraine, for safe keeping," Gandalf replied.

The answer to his question only caused dozens of others to form in Thorin's mind. When had his father given such a gift to Gandalf? Why had he not given it to Thorin himself? Was his father still alive somewhere? How had Gandalf found him?

"It is yours now," Gandalf added, handing the gift to its rightful owner.

"If there is a kay, there must be a door," Fili said then, echoing Thorin's next thought.

Gandalf explained that there was indeed another way into the mountain, but that they would require outside help to decipher the ancient map on the table before them and to find the secret and invisible door that would be their only chance into the mountain. Thorin wondered what other people in middle earth would be able to help them with his task, and mistrusted the look in Gandalf's eye... something told him, he was not going to like the answer to that question.

"The task that I have in mind will require great deal of stealth and no small amount of courage," the Wizard said with a side-long glance at the hobbit, "But if we are careful, and clever, I believe that it can be done."

"That's why we need a burglar," Ori, the youngest of the company, chimed in.

"Hm, and a good one too," Mt. Baggins added in agreement. "An expert I'd imagine."

"And are you?" One of the dwarves asked.

"Am I what?" the halfling asked innocently.

"He said he's an expert!" Old Oin, who was hard of hearing, called out.

Mr. Baggins crushed the enthusiasm of the company right away by admitting that he certainly was _not_ a burglar and had never stolen a thing in his life.

Thorin had thought as much, and the other dwarves quickly lost interest in the little creature since they knew he would be of no real assistance.

"Aye, the wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves," Dwalin said, echoing Thorin's thoughts since the first time he saw the timid being whose home they had claimed for the secret meeting this evening. Thorin nodded his agreement. But Gandalf rose menacingly, so that his presence seemed to take hold of the entire room, "Enough! If I say Bilbo Baggins is a Burglar, than a Burglar he is."

He began emplaning all of the useful qualities possessed by hobbits… Thorin listened with interest. They are light on their feet, and can pass unnoticed by most… these were interesting and probably quite useful traits for a burglar… but most importantly... Smaug was not familiar with the smell of a hobbit. _That,_ would definitely be an advantage. Still… what good were these traits if the useless little being was more likely to be killed in the first part of their journey?

Gandalf seemed to have great faith in Mr. Baggins. He asked Thorin to trust his judgement. Thorin considered carefully what it was that the wizard was asking of him. He knew that ultimately the decision was his, but he felt that angering the wizard further would not aid him. Finally, he agreed half-heartedly. He did not want to be responsible for the blood of a stranger, he had enough to worry about… and he would make sure that Gandalf knew this once they were out of Mr. Baggin's presence.

Thorin – still feeling the presence of the little man hovering immediately behind him – mouthing weak protestations as Balin summarized the content of the contract which he handed to Thorin. Thorin roughly thrust the contract at the hobbit over his shoulder and felt the creature lose his balance slightly when Thorin's hand – still holding the contract – collided with his chest. This creature would not last long… Thorin had barely touched him and he'd nearly fallen over. It was evident that he possessed no physical strength… what qualities could Gandalf see in him that they could not?

The hobbit walked out into the hallway to read the long document and Thorin took advantage of the distance between them to rise and speak in confidence to Gandalf, "I cannot guarantee his safety," he said firmly in the wizard's ear.

"Understood."

"Nor will I be responsible for his fate," he warned.

If Gandalf insisted that this soft, gentle, creature to come along on this journey, then he must be aware that he would also be responsible for Mr. Baggin's fate. Bringing this creature was not in Thorin's plan, and if he felt he had truly had a choice, he would have refused. He would never in a thousand years have picked this Bilbo fellow to accompany them, and wanted Gandalf to know as much.

"Agreed." The wizard said after a long moment.

Gandalf chucked to himself as the hobbit mumbled aloud the terms of the agreement.

"Lac-er-ations…" the hobbit's voice grew a little louder, and Gandalf's face fell instantly, "Iviceration… _incineration_?" the hobbit turned an accusing eye on the company as if it were them who would be attempting to burn him alive.

"Yep." Bofur quickly assured him that incineration was indeed a great possibility.

"You alright laddie?" Balin asked in genuine concern, though a smile played on his lips.

"Ya, I'm… feeling a bit faint…" Mr. Baggins bent over and took a couple of deep steadying breaths.

"Think furnace, with wings," Bofur pushed in amusement.

"I need to sit down," the hobbit mumbled.

"A flashing light, searing pain and then… poof!... you're nothing more than a pile of ash!" Bofur continued. Thorin felt it was a bit cruel, but did not stop him. If the creature could not stand the thought of a dragon how would he be of any use at all against a real one?

Thorin watched as the colour drained from the young man's face before he collapsed on the carpet.

No, indeed, this creature would not last long.


End file.
